Betraying Trust Page 2

  “Okay, I’m going to go get together with John and go over his report,” Sam said, referring to John Dudley, the county medical examiner. “Kevin, I want you and Wyatt to go over the crime scene at Reed’s Ferry Mill again. But this time, search farther away from the building. I know it’s contaminated there because it’s been a week. I know the drug addicts are going back in, but maybe there’s something out there. The killer might have parked on the access road and walked in. There’re some narrow trails. Take Lucy. If something is there, she’ll sniff it out.”

  At the sound of her name, Lucy lifted her head and gave Sam a questioning look, the fur on her forehead wrinkling above curious eyes.

  Kevin sat up a little straighter in his chair and nodded. As a part-timer and low man on the pole, Kevin was usually relegated to grunt work. After Tyler’s death, they’d been shorthanded, and he’d had to step it up. At first, Jo hadn’t been so sure about trusting him with extra responsibilities. She thought she’d even caught him lying once when she’d seen him come out of the alley near a restaurant. But he’d proved himself these last few weeks, and she was happy he was getting better assignments, even if she was a bit jealous that Kevin was getting to do fun field work while she was stuck making phone calls on this one. Sam always had a reason for everything, and she suspected that Sam was giving this job to Kevin and Wyatt so it wouldn’t seem as if she and Sam were collecting all the physical evidence.

  A knock sounded on the door, and the receptionist, Reese Hordon, poked her head in.

  “Sorry, Sam. I got a call from Nettie Deardorff about Bitsy again. Seems the goat chewed up the hem of her new housedress that was drying on the clothesline.”

  Reese’s expression was apologetic. Her long dark hair was pulled into ponytails that cascaded down the sides of her face. Her blue eyes looked at them keenly. Jo liked the young woman, who was a cadet at the police academy and had a good instinct for police work. Not to mention that her contacts at the academy sometimes allowed them to expedite things as well as glean sensitive information off the record. What Jo liked most about her was that Reese didn’t flinch when they had to push the envelope a bit in order to expedite justice.

  Lucy swiveled her head and wagged her tail furiously at the sight of Reese.

  “Goat?” Wyatt asked.

  “Nettie Deardorff is one of our senior residents. She’s had a feud going on with her neighbor, Rita Hoelscher, as long as I can remember,” Sam said. “They’ve fought over many things over the years, but ever since Rita got Bitsy—that’s her goat—Nettie has really stepped up her complaints. Thing is, Bitsy does get out and chew on things. Sometimes I wonder if Rita lets her out on purpose. A few months ago, Nettie got a chicken, and now they take turns calling in complaints on the other’s pets. It always ends amicably. I think they just want attention.”

  Kevin rose from his chair. “I’ll take care of it.”

  Sam held his hand out. “You sit back down. This will be good experience for Wyatt. Get him used to the local folks and all.”

  Kevin beamed.

  “Sure. I can handle that,” Wyatt said.

  “I have the address right here.” Reese held a pink Post-it note out toward Wyatt.

  Sam’s gaze drifted out the window. “Crap.”

  Henley Jamison was walking down the sidewalk. It was a hot summer day, but he wore his charcoal-gray Armani suit coat, his crimson tie making a statement against his white shirt. Every single hair was perfectly in place as he strutted down the street in his shiny Ferragamo shoes toward the police station.

  Sam pulled open his drawer and grabbed his keys. “Okay, let’s wrap this up quick and get out of here before Jamison comes in and makes a pain in the butt of himself.”

  The office filled with the sounds of chairs scraping as they all jumped up and ran for the door. Sam’s voice stopped them as Jo was reaching for the old brass doorknob.

  “Let’s do our best work today. We need to wrap this one up quick. I have a feeling Jamison might be ready to call in reinforcements, and I don’t think any of us wants another police department getting into our business.”

  Chapter Three

  As Kevin turned into the parking area of the Reed’s Ferry Mill, Sam’s words echoed in his head. He sure as hell didn’t want another department looking into this case. That might lead to investigating each of them, and that was the last thing he wanted. Especially considering what he’d been up to.

  In the passenger seat of the police-issue Crown Victoria, Lucy stared out the window intently, her gaze focused on the abandoned brick building. Kevin chose his parking spot carefully. The parking lot had been claimed by tall grass, scrawny shrubs, and thick weeds. He didn’t want the Crown Vic to get scratched, because it was a privilege to be allowed to drive it.

  The police department had only two vehicles; the other was the Tahoe that Sam usually drove. When Tyler had been alive, he’d driven the Crown Vic, and Kevin had to drive his own car. But once Tyler was gone, Kevin graduated to the Crown Vic.

  Now that Wyatt had been hired on full-time, would Sam let him drive the official car and bust Kevin back down to his personal vehicle? Kevin didn’t think so. He had seniority, and Sam respected that sort of thing. But he still didn’t want to risk his privileges by getting the car all dirty and scratched.

  Kevin pulled to a stop and took his keys out of the ignition before reaching into his pocket for one of the special treats for which he drove two towns over to purchase for Lucy. They were her favorite. The smell of bacon permeated the car, drawing Lucy’s gaze to the treat in his hand. He fed her the treat and then patted her, taking comfort in the softness of her fur on his fingertips.

  “You remember this place, right, girl?”

  Lucy tilted her head. She’d been over the crime scene several times with Sam and Jo.

  “Of course, you do. Let’s give it another look. I know you can find something.” Kevin got out of the car and came around to the passenger side to let Lucy out. Pride swelled in his chest. Lucy usually stayed with Sam or Jo, but today Sam had trusted him with the dog. He was making progress, becoming part of Sam and Jo’s inner circle.

  Kevin had gotten attached to Lucy. He enjoyed her company, and she seemed to understand him. Dogs just took you at face value; they never complained. Didn’t stab you in the back either. You could trust a dog. People, not so much. Before Lucy had come to the department, Kevin had felt isolated. As a part-timer, he worked odd hours, and it always seemed as if Sam, Jo, and Tyler were in a special group and he was the outsider. Once Lucy came on the scene, he felt he had a friend. And now things were really looking up. His relationship with Sam and Jo was strengthening. Sam had been giving him more responsibility and had shown in several ways that he trusted Kevin.

  There was no way he would betray that trust. He couldn’t undo what he’d already done, but at least he could try to make up for his mistakes.

  His thoughts turned to the mysterious contact who had asked him to relay information about what was going on in the station. It had started almost a year ago. He found notes in his mailbox and his car. He met with people in shadowy alleys. He’d almost been caught at it once and was forced to lie to Jo, making up a story about meeting his cousin who worked at the restaurant next to the alley when she’d seen him coming out of the alley after meeting his contact.

  Sure, he felt guilty about that now, but he’d done all that before he knew the truth. He’d thought he was doing the right thing. At first, Kevin hadn’t understood who was behind the requests. He thought the FBI was investigating Sam and Jo. Kevin knew the agency didn’t always go by the book, so he assumed they were up to something shady and he was helping the authorities catch them.

  Once he started to work with Sam more closely, he began to realize that was not the case. Whoever was pressuring him for information about Sam and Jo was up to something else entirely. He was sure Sam and Jo weren’t doing anything underhanded. Sure, they used some unconventional methods, but sometimes that
was what you had to do in order to get justice. Especially in a town like White Rock, where corruption reached as high as the mayor himself. And after what happened at the stakeout, Kevin had a sneaking suspicion the orders from his contact were coming directly from Lucas Thorne. It was no coincidence that the drug drop at the river never happened after Kevin leaked information about the stakeout to his contact.

  They waded through the knee-high grass. He’d have to check Lucy for ticks thoroughly later. He didn’t bother going into the building; they’d been over it many times already, and by now, the crime scene had been contaminated by the lowlifes who hung out inside the mill. The only things to be seen in there were dirty mattresses, used needles, and crumpled junk food wrappers. He could do without the stink of vomit, urine, and sweat. He figured Lucy could too.

  Not to mention the piles of pigeon droppings and those noisy birds cooing and their claws scraping the rafters as Kevin tried to work the scene. One of them had expressed its displeasure at his presence by splattering a fresh drop on his black police boots. That stuff was caustic; it had taken the shine right off that quarter-shaped spot. Nothing Kevin tried could restore the luster.

  Kevin walked slowly, his eyes scanning the ground. Lucy ran ahead, sniffing every tree and acorn and scaring off a few squirrels, which chattered at her angrily from the branches they’d taken cover in.

  It was hot, one of those sticky end-of-summer days. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of Kevin’s neck as he swung his head back and forth, searching for anything that looked out of place.

  He wondered if Sam would try to rule the investigation a suicide. He thought Sam might have a few reasons to do so. When Kevin had gotten to the crime scene, he’d noticed some discrepancies, like the smudge near the gun. He was pretty sure someone had moved it, and the only people who had been there were Sam and Jo … and the killer. But why would the killer move the gun? Just in case, Kevin had obliterated the telltale smudge with the toe of his boot when no one was looking. He didn’t want Sam to get into trouble.

  The other discrepancy Kevin had noticed was the way Dupont’s hand had been curled, as if he’d been clutching something. Kevin had to wonder if Sam knew more about that than he let on. But Kevin had his own reasons for wanting Dupont’s death to be ruled a suicide. An investigation might uncover some of the things he’d been up to, like tipping Thorne off to police activity.

  Passing information along wasn’t the only thing he’d done. His contact had asked him to look through Tyler Richardson’s belongings after his death. Kevin hadn’t found anything except a thumb drive. Now he was glad he hadn’t passed that drive along. Even though he hadn’t found any files on it, special forensics might be able to recover previously erased data. He’d kept it as an insurance policy in case things went south.

  But what was on it? Could it be something that incriminated Thorne or something that incriminated Sam and Jo? Or it could be nothing. Better to keep it safely hidden away until his hand was forced.

  He would never have to use it unless the investigation dug too deep. Yep, a suicide ruling was probably best. But Kevin had a funny feeling that not everyone might be willing to let it go as a suicide. The way Wyatt had been looking at those photos in Sam’s office told Kevin he might not go along so easily. And he’d asked a lot of questions about Sam earlier that morning when Kevin had been showing him the ropes. He’d also indicated he didn’t think that Dupont fit the suicide profile. Would he push back if Sam tried to press for a suicide conclusion?

  Maybe that was just normal curiosity and Kevin was being paranoid. Still, there was something about Wyatt that tweaked Kevin’s alarm bells. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Maybe he was simply jealous that a new person was coming in just when he was finally making headway into Sam and Jo’s confidence.

  No, that was stupid. Sam had been giving him more responsibility. He’d let him handle the arrest of that environmentalist guy, and they’d bonded at the stakeout. Plus, Sam had picked him to take Lucy to the crime scene and sent Wyatt to deal with a local dispute. They were building trust, and a new guy wasn’t going to jeopardize that.

  Whether Dupont’s death ended up a suicide or not, Kevin needed to find a clue that would lead them to Thorne. Once Thorne was out of the picture, Kevin wouldn’t have to worry about his contact. And he was sure Thorne was the main source of the drug supply, judging by the generous amounts of money he was paid to tip him off about the police station happenings. Kevin was determined to make up for all the information he’d passed along, and the best way he could think to do that was to help nail Thorne.

  Kevin whirled at the crunch of gravel to his left, his hand going automatically to the gun on his hip.

  A thin old man with a smattering of gray hair crowning a shiny bald spot stood twenty feet away. A mixture of surprise and fear spread on his face as his eyes flicked from Kevin’s face to the hand hovering above his gun. Kevin relaxed. It was just a civilian dressed in a yellow T-shirt and grass-stained tan chinos. He’d probably been mowing his lawn, judging by the clumps of grass on his sneakers.

  “Boy, you cops sure take an active interest in this old mill,” the man said.

  “We’re investigating,” Kevin said. He was sure the man knew the mayor had been found dead inside the mill less than a week ago. It had been all over the news. “You live over there?” Kevin jutted his chin toward the neighborhood that he knew to be beyond the woods. If he lived there, how had the man seen him here?

  The man shook his head and held out his hand. “Harvey Noonan. I live down the access road that way.” The man pointed toward the dirt entrance road to the mill. “House is kind of secluded. Saw the police car drive by and wondered what was going on. Neighborhood’s gone to shit with the drug addicts that come and go. And now a death.”

  Kevin walked closer and shook Harvey’s hand. “You saw me drive by. You kind of watching the place?”

  “Could say that. Can’t be too careful.” The man glanced warily at the mill.

  “Did you see anything the other night or maybe that day?” Kevin asked. Sam, Jo, and Kevin had talked to all the neighbors, but Kevin hadn’t talked to this one. He was probably one of the people Sam or Jo had talked to, but it didn’t hurt to ask again. Sometimes people clammed up when they were being asked officially, or they simply didn’t remember things until later.

  “Lots of cops coming and going.”

  “You mean after we found the body?”

  The man shook his head. “No. Not then, before.”

  “Before? How long before?”

  “Earlier that afternoon.”

  Sam and Jo had had a meeting with Dupont that night, so they’d been here before all the sirens, but of course this neighbor didn’t know that. “You mean right before you heard the sirens.”

  The man screwed up his face. “Are you daft? No wonder this town’s gone to shit with you protecting it. I said earlier in the afternoon. I wouldn’t bother to mention if it was right before. Of course the cops had to come here on some sort of call. This was hours before. I saw a car drive by and figured there were some goings on, but when I came down, it was just that lady cop. She was going in the building. I don’t want to go anywhere near there, so I turned around and went back home.”

  Kevin frowned. Jo? Why had she been here earlier in the afternoon? He guessed it made sense. She’d probably come to scope the place out so that they’d have an exit strategy in case Dupont’s meeting was an ambush. Yep, that made perfect sense. But if that was the case, why hadn’t Sam or Jo mentioned that in the reports?

  “Right. Well, the police are watching this place. Like you said, there’s a lot of drug activity, and we want to keep the neighborhood safe, so we check in every so often,” Kevin lied. He wanted to make an excuse for Jo, because if Sam and Jo hadn’t mentioned her being here earlier, he was sure there was good reason for it.

  The man screwed up his face and thought a minute. “Yeah. Right. That makes sense. That what you doing no
w?”

  “That and looking for clues.” Kevin pointed to Lucy.

  The man nodded. “Okay, then. Hope you catch the guy that did it.”

  Kevin watched the man leave until he disappeared around the corner.

  Kevin hoped Harvey wouldn’t make an official report about what he’d just said. No one needed to know that Sam and Jo had omitted the part about her being there earlier in the day. It might have been an honest mistake, but official investigations could get sticky, and honest mistakes could get twisted out of context. Kevin would keep that information to himself.

  Lucy’s excited bark brought his attention back to the task at hand. She stood at the edge of the woods where a narrow trail started. She looked back at Kevin and then at an oak sapling in front of her. Her nose was high in the air, a position that Kevin had come to recognize as a sign that she’d sniffed out something of interest. Kevin knew that dogs had a strong sense of smell, but in the short time he’d worked with Lucy, he’d noticed that hers seemed almost as if it had been developed to an extraordinary level.

  Kevin jogged over. “What did you find?”

  Lucy pointed her ears forward and looked up at a leaf at about waist height. Kevin’s eyes followed her gaze. The sapling had bright-green leaves, but the one Lucy looked at was stained with a rusty-brown smudge. He bent closer, his heartbeat picking up a notch. The smudge was the color of dried blood. A fingerprint? He couldn’t see any whorls, but it was the right size.

  Was that Dupont’s blood? Was it from the killer? And if so, should he bag it as evidence, because if they were going to close this as a suicide, how could there be a fingerprint from the killer on a leaf? Maybe he should destroy it.

  But if for some reason Sam decided to investigate, this fingerprint could come in handy, and he couldn’t guarantee that he would come back to find it washed off by rain or devoured by bugs. He could put it in his evidence bag and hold it just in case, but then how would he explain coming back here to find it?